


Lovin' Every Minute (Frank Castle x reader) [The Punisher]

by avengerofyourheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Blood, Daredevil - Freeform, Death, F/M, Frank Castle - Freeform, Gun Violence, Marvel - Freeform, Sexy Times, The Punisher, borderline smut idk, i love my murderous man, marvel's the punisher, netflix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:40:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerofyourheart/pseuds/avengerofyourheart
Summary: Characters: Frank Castle, reader, mentions of others.Summary: Frank Castle wasn’t an easy man to love but that didn’t stop you. From the ranks of the military to following the newspapers reporting his crimes, you still loved him. Once you got a chance to protect him in the only way you knew how, you were never gonna let him go again. (Takes place after Daredevil season 2, before The Punisher)Warnings: Mentions of blood and death. Swearing. Sexy times bordering on smut?? idk.Word Count: 5.2k (including lyrics)Song Inspiration: “Lovin’ Every Minute of It” by Loverboy
Relationships: Frank Castle/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Lovin' Every Minute (Frank Castle x reader) [The Punisher]

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn’t stop myself. Seriously. Frank Castle has my heart and I’ve been binging Daredevil and Punisher for two weeks straight, mixed in with this song, It just had to happen. Please PLEASE let me know your thoughts. It’s been so long since I’ve been so jazzed about writing something. ANY feedback is adored and appreciated. Love you all!

Smoke filling the air began to disperse, but the smell of gunfire still lingered. Bodies littered the ground, your boots splattered and now sticky with blood. Replacing your Glock in it’s holster strapped to your thigh, the heat of the muzzle was still warm through your tactical pants from being recently fired.

Casting your gaze over the gory scene in a wooded clearing, you spotted the only other person standing, his eyes meeting yours. With a slight tilt of his head, he walked toward tree line and you followed, wiping away a trickle of blood that had run down your cheek from a cut above your eye.

___________

_“I’m not man or machine_

_I’m just something in between_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh._

_I’m all love, a dynamo_

_So push the button and let me go_

_Whoa, oh, whoa, whoa.”_

You and Frank went way back. All the way to some god-forsaken desert in the Middle East where the only people you could trust were your fellow soldiers. Castle caught your eye right away, those ruggedly handsome looks with an ever-present wry smile. He was married with a family, though, and you would never mess with that. He was decent to you anyway, calling out any asshole who tried to hassle you for being the only female in the unit. You respected him all the more for that.

Trust and “brotherhood” was more important than any ridiculous feelings you might have had. You had each others’ backs and that was enough. Something changed, though, after you were injured and put on light duty for a few months. The men were tightly-wound, reporting to a different commander and no longer patrolling with other soldiers. Castle was still respectful to you, but your contact was limited at best anyway. He fulfilled his duty and headed Stateside with a few months left on the clock for you.

Only when you made it home did you hear about what happened. Frank Castle and his family were caught in the crossfire of a drug deal gone wrong and he barely escaped with his life. It’s one thing to lose a soldier on the battlefield but it’s another to find the safety of home only to lose everything that mattered in a second. You tried reaching out but Frank had disappeared. Off the grid.

Months later, there was news of a trigger-happy vigilante taking on the gangs involved in the shooting in the park. Somehow, you knew. Only a person with the gear and know-how with military experience could take on a whole biker gang, a cartel, and the heavily-armed Kitchen Irish. And then he was captured and charged with murder. You followed the trial closely, begging for Frank to take a deal to save his life. He couldn’t be so far gone to refuse, could he?

But he confessed, hollering in court that he’d do it again and that he liked it.

You couldn’t understand it. From what you gathered, his lawyers seemed like they were honestly working for his best interests but Frank burned any possibility in that courtroom. Going to prison into the general population was a death sentence in itself for everything he’d done. Why? You asked yourself that every day until he escaped. No one knew how, but he did. More deaths carved into his soul and then…you saw the headline.

**Frank Castle Dead**

An explosion on a ship smuggling drugs. You sobbed, in disbelief that the man you knew and loved was gone. You packed a bag, your family’s words of concern falling on deaf ears as you made plans to head into the city. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but something compelled you to find…god, you hated the word ‘closure’ but it was the most fitting.

First checking into a cheap motel, you then took a taxi to the cemetery and walked the grounds before you found what you’d been searching for. The family name CASTLE was chiseled on the granite surface with the names and dates of his wife and children. Frank’s name and birth date were also there but reports said that nothing was found of him. Nothing to bury. And since he was considered a mass murderer, it was doubtful that anyone would make an effort to mark his death date.

Looking down at the bouquet of flowers in your hand, you knelt before the grave and placed the blooms against the headstone. A few tears fell as you tried to say your goodbyes. You weren’t sold on the idea of an afterlife, but hoped that some part of Frank heard you. As you rose to your feet, you got the eerie feeling of being watched, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Turning your head to swiftly look behind you, a dark figure ducked behind a large mausoleum, barely catching sight of them.

All senses on high alert, you listened for footsteps and masked your own as you approached where you had last seen the mysterious person. Back pressed against the cold stone you calmed your anxious heart before peeking around the corner to find…no one. You crept forward, casting your eyes across the cemetery in search of a retreating figure when an arm gripped your waist from behind, hand tight across your mouth.

Your instincts kicked in, stabbing an elbow into their gut and throwing your head backwards with a satisfying crunch. The arm loosened and you prepared to fight when you heard a familiar voice.

“Ah, goddammit. What the hell, Y/N?”

Frozen in disbelief a second, you finally thawed and turned to see before you the very man you’d been grieving. Your jaw dropped, watching as Frank used his sleeve to dab at the bloody nose you’d given him.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” he asked, his signature gruff voice making you shiver with memories of the months you spent together. All the moments that made you fall for him.

“What am _I_ …What the FUCK, Castle?!?” you asked in reply, shoving his chest with both hands. “I thought you were dead, you asshole!”

He gave you that wry smile that you both loved and hated in that moment. “Yeah, well. Change of plans. Can you keep it down a little? This is a cemetery, you know.”

Your anger flared again, but logic got the best of you. Arousing attention wasn’t the best idea, given that one of you was dead, supposedly, and in life had been a fugitive.

“God…” you muttered, head still spinning. “What’s going on, Frank?”

He considered that a moment, glancing around for witnesses before he replied. “Come on. Not here.”

Frank lead you to a nondescript car close by and you slipped into the passenger seat. He cranked the engine and started driving, leaving the cemetery behind and then weaving through the city and over a bridge before pulling into an abandoned lot in an industrial area near the river. You wanted to demand answers but since he held them all, you figured he’d share when he was ready.

Cutting the engine, he sighed, leaning his head back before meeting your curious eye. “Being dead solves a lot of problems,” he began, staring out at the water as the sun set. “No one’s lookin’ for ya if you’re dead. I was actually headed out of town today. Had to say one last goodbye…”

You nodded, hands fidgeting in your lap. “I’m so sorry, Frank.”

He stayed silent, only reaction being a quiet sniffle before he offered a single nod. “Yeah.”

“So…what now?”

Frank clenched his jaw, his posture shifting. “I got some unfinished business, but… gotta lay low for a while.”

“Right. Don’t supposed you’ll share where you’re headed,” you said as a statement, not a question.

That half smile again. “Better not.”

The silence lingered, a thought percolating in your mind. “My uncle has a cabin upstate.”

Frank’s head swiveled, his gaze narrowing. “What?”

“You could hide there for a while. He hasn’t used it in years,” you encouraged him, watching the gears turn in his head.

“Yeah, I don’t know…I’m not dragging you into my shit. I’m sure you’ve got a life to get back to…”

You let out a dry laugh. “Not so much. I’m so bored since I’ve been home. Almost makes me wish for those nights of guard duty where at least the thought of impending death kept me awake.”

Frank chuckled at that, the first real smile you’d seen stretching across his handsome face covered in a few days’ stubble. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes….sometimes the war seemed easier, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, knowing that only two soldiers could understand that home wasn’t always the paradise you dreamed of without sounding crazy. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll navigate. That or let me out and hit me with this car cause I’m not going back there.”

Another smile that made your heart flutter, holding your breath until Frank turned the key and followed your lead to your hotel before heading North out of the city. Rolling the window down, you let the wind flow across your face and into your hair as the sun set behind you, feeling better than you had in a long time.

_______________

_“You want me to come alive_

_Flick the switch into overdrive._

_You and me can let it be_

_Ready (ready), aim (aim),_

_Fire.”_

It started in a dive bar just off the highway. The woods were pitch black on either side of the road and you had to admit, you needed daylight to find the cabin after so many years. Frank decided to pull off for a drink before probably sleeping in the car. You’d both spent worse nights. Parked on a barstool, you both got a beer chased by whisky. Frank wandered off to find the men’s room as you considered another drink, the alcohol warming you from the inside out with a comfortable haze settling in your brain.

You felt a presence behind you just before a hand grazed your ass and gave it a squeeze. The dickhead wasn’t prepared for your reaction, reaching for his wrist and twisting it away from his body as he let out a girlish scream.

“Keep that hand to yourself or you’ll lose it,” you warned him, twisting a smidge further before letting go.

The groper stumbled backward, cradling his arm before his face screwed up in anger. “You crazy bitch,” he snarled, lurching toward you before a hand against his chest stopped him.

“I think you got what you deserve, pal. She can do a lot more damage so you might want to save your ego,” Frank stated, stepping between the man and yourself.

The man pressed forward anyway. The jackass. “I’ll show you what SHE deserves…”

You were barely off your stool before Frank had the man’s face flat against a nearby table, his already injured arm twisted behind his back.

“Guess you’re losing the whole arm, eh?”

The Jackass had friends, though, and finally they awoke from their stupor, grabbing the back of Frank’s jacket and pulling him away from their friend. You were in motion then, placing a jab into the kidney of one of the them and kicking a knee out from under the other. The two idiots crumbled in pain, screaming, as you and Frank found each other back to back in the middle of the bar. Other men must have been friendly with the morons, as they got to their feet to join the fighting. This was familiar, actually. Watching each others’ six while surrounded. Had to admit, you kind of missed it.

“You good?” he asked in a low voice.

“Hell yeah,” you replied, offering a smile and he returned it briefly before facing your respective opponents.

It was mayhem after that, fists flying and the sound of broken glass as you and Frank laid those Frat boy morons and their friends down flat in a manner of minutes. The bros were moaning on the floor as a shotgun was cocked behind the bar, more of a warning than a threat, you could tell.

“You two, out,” the bartender demanded in the now-quiet bar.

Catching Frank’s eye, he raised an eyebrow and you gave a half frown. A quick shorthand between you. _Should we take on this guy? Nah._ You headed for the door, stepping over your conquests on the way out and Frank followed, his heavy boots clomping on the wooden floor.

Slipping into the car, Frank threw it in reverse and you were back on the road that was thankfully deserted. Drinking and driving wasn’t the plan, but plans changed. He spotted a gravel side road within minutes and pulled off, tucking the car as close to the trees as he could. He killed the engine, the silence lingering a moment before you broke, letting out a snicker and meeting Frank’s eye. He let out a chuckle then, shaking his head.

“Not the best way to lie low, I guess, huh?”

You shrugged, catching your breath. “Eh. It was fun, though.”

“It was, yeah,” he agreed, smile sticking a second before it slipped as he held your gaze.

Pulling back the collar of your jacket, you lifted a hand to your neck and it came away wet.

“What?” he frowned

“I think I have beer on my neck,” you declared, leaning in for his inspection and he peered closer, eyes flickering up to meet yours.

Frank pulled away sharply then, focusing outside the car when he replied. “There’s some bottled water in the back seat. I’ll shift all that to the trunk so you can sleep.”

He was out of the car before you could process that, but reached for the water and cleaned yourself up as he suggested. You climbed out the passenger side just as he was clearing space in the trunk, a few duffle bags of firearms and ammo shoved to the side. Frank offered a side-eyed glance for your reaction but you weren’t shocked. You knew about his recent activities. It wasn’t a deal-breaker.

Thankfully, the car had benches instead of bucket seats so lying down was possible for sleeping. Frank took the front and he left you the back, which was roomier than you expected. As you lie in the dark and listened to him breathing only a foot away, you flashed back to earlier. If you didn’t know any better you could have sworn you two almost had… _a moment_. It was crazy, the man was still grieving but even in the short time since the cemetery, you knew your feelings hadn’t changed. In fact, they were stronger than ever.

Shifting once more, you finally got comfortable under your jacket turned makeshift blanket and drifted off.

The next conscious moment you had was a constant rumbling and flickering lights behind your eyelids. Shooting up to sitting in your confusion, it took a few seconds for you to remember where you were. In the back of a moving vehicle with Frank Castle behind the wheel. Sunshine streamed through the trees, casting shadows as Frank drove.

“Mornin’,” Frank croaked as his eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. “Figured it was best to get moving.”

“Right,” you muttered, rubbing sleep from your eyes and waiting for the fog of sleep to lift. “Can we stop soon?”

You didn’t want to be specific about your urgent need, but he seemed to understand.

“Yeah, yeah. Grab some coffee and get our bearings.”

“Great,” you said with a yawn, finding your shoes and slipping on your jacket.

A quick stop later and you were back on the road, now recognizing landmarks leading toward the cabin. It was just as you remembered, although a little more rundown now. Thankfully, the key was still in the same place under the eaves and you let yourselves in. Furniture was draped in white sheets and the air was stale with dust flying at every step. It would do, though.

Frank did a search of the perimeter as you put away the few groceries you’d picked up. Enough for a few days. When he returned, he brought in the green duffles and dropped them on the kitchen table.

“I stashed the car on the far side so it’s not visible from the road.”

“Smart. Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

You turned your back to him and reached for the can opener with a smile on your face. Frank was a man of few words, but he made them count. You appreciated that about him.

Since the gas line wasn’t hooked up, you had to make do. Cold soup out of a can wasn’t ideal but still better than MRE’s**. After he ate, Frank was in the process of disassembling every gun and cleaning it before putting it back together. Opening one of the other duffles, you picked up a Smith & Wesson M&P semi-automatic and pulled the slide, checking for a bullet in the chamber. It was empty currently. Raising it to shoulder height, you aimed for a photo across the cabin and closed one eye for sight. It had been a while since you’d held a firearm and you kind of missed it, the weight and grip familiar in your hand.

Frank caught your eye as his hands still moved, the motion of reassembling a .9mm pistol second nature. You raised your eyebrows in a wordless question and he barely lifted one shoulder, a sign of permission. Pulling up another chair, you joined him in cleaning the weapons, finding a rhythm soon enough.

Within two days, Frank was about crawling up the walls with literal cabin fever. Safe as it seemed, he couldn’t stand to just stay in one place and wait.

So much so that when you returned from a quick food run, he was nearly packed up and ready. The minute you put the car in park he popped the trunk and loaded a few bags into it before headed back inside for the rest. Scrambling to get the bags of groceries out of the car, you followed him.

“What are you doing?”

He shook his head, both hands full as he headed for the door but you blocked his way. “I’m no sitting duck. Gotta keep moving.”

“Then where? Huh? What’s the plan?”

“No plan. Just my gut,” he growled, nudging you aside.

You followed him outside, grasping for a way to keep him out of sight and safe without him losing his mind or you losing track of him. Something deep inside you knew he needed someone to watch his back, although he’d never admit it. Mouth open, about to disagree with him, you heard tires on nearby gravel right then and Frank’s head snapped up as well.

“Inside,” he ordered, but you were already on the move.

Frank still had duffles in his hands, so he barricaded both doors and then loaded everything he could get his hands on with matching ammo. He tossed you a rifle and you caught it, pulling aside the window curtain to see a pickup truck come into sight. You shared a glance, relief found there at the realization that it wasn’t police or military but unease rose again as Jackass and the Morons climbed out of the truck with guns in their grip, which they were clearly unfamiliar at handling.

Frank pressed up behind you, causing a hitch in your breath at his closeness as he saw the same scene outside.

“Dammit. Maybe I can scare ‘em off…” he hoped.

That was until Jackass opened his mouth.

“Frank Castle,” he hollered, gun raised as he’d seen in movies like a moron. “Caught the morning news. Guess you’re not as dead as they thought. Spotted that bitch of yours coming out of the market and knew you wouldn’t be far. Come out with your hands up. You’re surrounded.”

You rolled your eyes and about laughed. Like a line from a movie. You were far from surrounded. Five dumbasses in a shitty truck did not make much of a statement. The next shout froze your veins, though.

“Cops are on their way with backup. Nowhere to run, asshole,” the loudmouth declared.

Shit.

Actual authorities meant that Frank would be identified and discovered. No way out. Except…

You caught Frank’s eye and he clenched his jaw, the decision already made. He crouched at a different window with better line of sight and lifted the rifle with the butt against the crook of his shoulder. You did the same, hoping the scope’s sightline was true. It had been a while.

“I got this,” Frank told you, offering an out and taking all the blame.

“No. Together,” you assured him, ready to carry the weight of what was about to happen.

Lips pursed, he gave a nod, then counting down. “Three…two…one…”

The two of you fired at the same time, taking out two of the men with a clean headshot. The other three ran toward the truck for cover, raising their guns to fire but the kickback about knocked them on their asses. Amateurs. A few more seconds and the threat was gone for the moment. Back in hurried motion, you both grabbed what you could carry and loaded the car. Within minutes Frank was gunning the engine, racing away from he cabin with the tires throwing gravel behind you.

He put as much distance as possible from the cabin before Frank found a secluded spot to stop and take a breath. He cut the engine and shook his hands out, still buzzing from the firefight and the getaway. You could hear sirens in the distance, solidifying that you got out of there just in time. The carnage left behind shouldn’t tie back to you two. Frank would make sure that the weapons used were now out of commission.

“I wiped our prints from the cabin.”

His thought process was right where yours was. You just nodded.

You still had that buzzing under your skin, that same indescribable high after narrowly escaping with your life. It was like you were indestructible in that moment, wired and alive for the first time in a long time. Adrenaline still pumped in both of your veins as your eyes locked, the need so thick it was almost visible. You were two magnets, feeling the pull grow stronger until you could resist no more.

In an instant you collided, lips crashing together as he pulled you close. He slid across the seat toward the middle and lifted you to straddle his lap, fingers digging into your ass as you moaned. Despite cramped quarters, you were able to shed clothing in a flash as you ached for the pleasure of skin against skin. Frank bit your bottom lip, a growl vibrating through his chest against yours. As he eased inside, a scream of ecstasy escaped you. Frank had his hands everywhere he could reach as you moved above him, rising higher and higher until the growing fire within you burst through your veins and your moans filled the car. Frank pulled you hard against him as you quaked, finding his own high shortly after.

You held each other, both sweat-covered and shivering, until Frank pulled back just enough to meet your eye. He brushed a calloused thumb across your cheek in a moment of tenderness before pressing a kiss to your lips. Holding your gaze, he watched for your reaction to what just happen while you were doing the same. It had been unplanned, that was for sure, but it was also amazing. You only hoped he didn’t regret it.

As your breathing slowed and heart rate returned to normal, he finally spoke.

“You good?”

That quick check in. Two words that somehow said so much.

You smiled with a nod, lightly scratching your fingers against his closely shaved scalp. “Yeah. You?”

That smirk. “Yeah. We should get goin’.”

“Right.”

Hissing at the ache of separation, you searched the back seat for what was available to clean you two up and then slowly dressed. Frank waited, getting a nod from you before he started the car and you were on your way once again.

__________

_“Touch that dial_

_Turn me on_

_Start me like a motor, make me run_

_Lovin’ every minute of it (Lovin’)_

_Lovin’ every minute of it.”_

That was what life on the road became for you and Frank. There were inevitable encounters with those who caught up with the fugitive you were in love with, but they were no match for you two. A conscience might make someone else pause at the thought, but you were soldiers. You’d both seen and done enough to know what was worth fighting for. Frank was worth it. On occasion, he would get it in his head that it was all too dangerous for you, demanding that he go it alone but next time you’d save his ass putting a bullet in a man who had Frank in a headlock with a knife to his throat. What would happen if you weren’t there? You shuddered to think of it.

The sex became inevitable as well, the smell of gunpowder and splatter of blood becoming a type of foreplay for you and Frank. You wouldn’t call it normal or healthy, but you were neither, together or apart. So it worked somehow. You could see the guilt in his eyes sometimes. The ghost of Maria still lingering. You didn’t blame him. And you couldn’t hate her. From what you heard and saw in pictures, she was gorgeous and loving and Frank’s whole world. There was no competing with that and you didn’t even try.

There were also moments when it was just the two of you, though, eyes locked and bodies writhing where he saw you. Truly saw you. Your connection was so palpable, the air nearly crackling with your undeniable magnetism. You lived for those moments. No one else would know you like he did. And you liked to believe that you knew a side of Frank that one one else ever would. You needed him and you’d convinced yourself that he needed you, too. No labels, no promises, only the next sunrise to hope for. It was primal. Pure survival.

Months later, you found yourself in that clearing in the woods, firing headshots into person after person with skilled precision, keeping an eye out for Frank at the same time. You worked in tandem, rotating weapons and ammo like a seamless dance of death and destruction.

Frank had noticed the black cargo van tailing yet another car he’d stolen for a few miles before you two hatched a plan. Exiting the highway, he turned towards the forest and followed the winding road until you pointed out the perfect spot. Frank parked the car and you both hopped out, running towards the trees. Your pursuers took the bait, following close behind.

You barely had time to duck behind a tree with Frank on the opposite side of the clearing out of sight before the heavily armed tactically trained men burst on the scene. Outnumbered, you had to instead outsmart them. Frank shot first, taking out a man at the rear, a perfect echo ringing through out the forest. The source of the sound was indecipherable, causing panic in the ranks. They pointed guns in every direction, even more panicked as you took out two more in quick succession. You both picked them off until a muzzle flash was spotted by one of them and your location was made. They ran toward your hiding place, surprised when a dozen bullets pierced their backs. You took out a few more, then stepping out into the clearing with a rifle and a full magazine.

The enemy dropped like flies, blood splattering and flowing into the grass like a river. Once the firing ended, you stepped over the bodies to check for any still breathing. One more shot from Frank into the head of a man, his moan of pain cut short, and the job was done.

Frank nodded toward the car, heading that direction, and you followed. He drove 20 minutes to the cabin you’d been staying in, unbeknownst to the owners, but it wasn’t yet hunting season. You two hauled your bags through the door and dropped them at your feet the second the lock slid home. Frank was on you in a flash, lips hungry and desperate for you as your hands pulled at his jacket. Your tongue found the split in his lip from a landed punch, the coppery taste filling your mouth.

He pulled your jacket off your shoulders, a harsh tug re-opening a wound from a bullet graze that had dried. Hands winding into his hair, you appreciated the fact that he had grown it out some, giving you something to tug on. You liked the beard, too, both technically for the purpose of hiding his identity but it didn’t mean you couldn’t benefit from the new look. Whiskers felt better than sandpaper scruff against your skin.

Frank’s nimble fingers relieved you of your thigh holster and then worked on your button and zipper before tugging your pants down your thighs. You pulled his shirt over his head, the break in your kiss near torture until he returned to you. This wasn’t sweet and tender, it was quick and dirty against the wall only half undressed and still bleeding. Just how you liked it. Your head fell back against the wall as Frank’s fingers reached where you ached for him. Underwear discarded, he then pushed inside sharply, knocking the wind out of you.

You gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life as his rapid movement pushed you closer and closer to the edge before you fell into crackling pleasure, legs still quaking around his waist as he chased his own end. Frank let out a guttural moan as he finished, pressing his forehead to yours and a sweet kiss to your lips. He stumbled, legs losing strength in his ecstasy, until his knees found the bed and you both fell to the mattress.

Blood cooling finally, you stood and removed the last of your clothing, offering a hand to Frank. He took it and rose, stripping as he followed you to the shower. This was part of your routine after a battle. Sex, shower, stitch each other up, and then assess your weapons and ammo. His hands were tender under the cascading water, checking every inch of you for injuries. Only marks were the graze to your bicep and a cut above your eye. Frank walked away with a shallow puncture wound to his side, a split lip, and a cut at his hairline. Not bad.

That night in bed, Frank pulled you close against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your fingers brushed over the many scars on his chest and abdomen, taking care to secure the medical tape and gauze over his new injury. Tomorrow would mean ditching your current car, leaving the cabin with no trace, and heading to some unknown location to start over again. It would take roughly 12 hours before the bodies would be discovered. You’d be long gone by then, but at least you had tonight. You had each other.

You loved Frank. You always had and probably always would. But loving him meant meeting him right where he was, never demanding more than he was willing to give. You didn’t expect declarations of love or grand gestures. He cared for you, though. You knew that. It was in the little things. The details. How he protected you and you did the same for him. And that was enough.

You and Frank were together, side by side, scrapping and fighting and killing just to see the light of another day. And you were loving every minute of it.

**Author's Note:**

> So??? How’d I do on Frank? I was nervous. heh. But I’ve loved writing this story. So fun and a new challenge. I wanted this one to be quick and dirty but of course I had to add some feels. Oops. :) I’d take Frank any way I could get it, honestly, so yeah. Blood, guts, and all. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts about this fic. Any feedback is appreciated. I adore you all! Thank you for reading!!


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